GIFT  OF 
A.   P.   Morrison 


SONGS  OF  THE  TREES 


tctttres 


ana 
Cree 


MARY  Y.  ROBINSON 


Music  by 

JOSEBfiINK    ROBINSON 


Indianapolis:  THK  BOHBS-MERRILL  COMPANY,  Publishers 


COPYRIGHT,    1903 
THE   BOBBS-MERRILL   COMPANY 


OCTOBER 


GIFT  OF 


PRESS   OF 

BRAUNWORTH   &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,   N.  Y. 


Content0 

January The  Holly  Tree- 
February  .  .  .  The  Herald  Tree 
March  .  .  The  Wind  Tree 

APril The  Roek-a-bye  Tree 

Ma7 The  Blossom  Tree 

June The  Rose  Tree 

Jul7 The  Cherry  Tree 

A"gust The  Maple  Tree 

September  .      .     .   The  Apple  Tree 

October  The  Sugar-plum  Tree 

November The  Ghost  Tree 

December        ....       The  Christmas  Tree 


amtary 

i*  U 


JANIVEER   FREEZE  THE   POT  BY  THK   KIRK 


The  Holly-Tree 


•9-  •  -*-    V     ^  ~»~ 

O!     Ho!      for    the     Hoi  -   ly  -  tree,  Ti.s  the    tree  for    New  Year's 


glee,         When  the  wind  blows  cold,  and  the    trees  look    old,    Then  Ho!  for    the  Hoi  -  ly  - 


tree. 


O    green       Hoi  -  ly  -  tree 

[_H v 


O    green      Hoi    -    ly     tree, 


May       we       all     grow     old       like  thee,  O  ____      green  Hoi     -     ly  -  tree. 


u 


O,  Ho,  for  the  Holly  Tree 

'Tis  the  tree  for  the  New  Year's  glee, 

When  the  winds  blow  cold, 

And  the  trees  grow  old, 

Then  Ho,  for  the  Holly  Tree  ! 

O  green  Holly  Tree, 

O  green  Holly  Tree, 

May  we  all  grow  old  like  thee  ; 
O  green  Holly  Tree. 


THE  HOLLY  TREE 


"The  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  come  unto  chee,  the 
fir-tree,  the  pine-tree,  and  the  box  together,  to  beautify 
the  place  of  my  sanctuary."  _  ISAIAH 

Out    in    the    forest,    among    the    trees,    lives    a    family 
named   evergreen. 

There  are  big  evergreens  and  little  evergreens,  and 
they  have  big  and  little  relatives  over  the  sea, 

Every  name  has  a  meaning,  and  this  family  got  its 
lovely  name  because  of  a  lovely  habit  it  has;  that  is, 
both  big  evergreens  and  little  evergreens  never  lose  their 
leaves  in  the  winter,  but  stand  waving  their  green  arms 
and  offering  shelter  to  birds  and  wild  animals  when 
winds  blow  cold  and  snow  piles  high.  In  winter  as  well 
as  summer  they  are  ever  green. 

Now  just  as  we  have  brothers  and  sisters,  aunts  and 
uncles  and  cousins,  so  this  evergreen  family  is  divided 
into  a  great  many  relatives. 

First,  there  are  the  tall,  dark,  solemn  members.  These 
are  called  firs  and  pines.  They  are  very  stiff  and  straight 


' 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE    TREES 

like  soldiers  and  have  leaves  like  small  swords,  or  spread- 
out  leaves  looking  like  stiff  green  sea-weed,  and  their 
fruit,  which  looks  like  small,  dried-up  pineapples,  is 
called  pine-cones. 

Then  there  are  the  lovely,  dressy  members,  the  rho 
dodendrons,  laurels,  and  magnolias.  These  have  smooth, 
large,  glassy  leaves  and  sweet  pink  and  white  flowers. 
They  are  the  pretty  ladies  of  the  family,  and  then,  third, 
there  are  the  two  very  popular  and  famous  members,  the 
Christmas  tree  and  the  holly. 

The  Christmas  tree  belongs  to  the  firs  and  pines  and 
tradition,  and  will  be  heard  of  in  the  December  song  of 
the  tree. 

The  holly  belongs  with  the  laurels  and  magnolias, 
and  is  the  lady  of  the  Church,  for  it  is  from  the  Church 
that  it  gets  its  name  —  holy-tree,  or  holly-tree. 

Long  ages  ago,  in  far-away  Rome,  the  old  Romans 
had  a  festival  in  the  month  of  December  to  celebrate 
their  harvest,  and  at  this  time  they  sent  sprigs  of  the 
holly  to  one  another  with  best  wishes  for  a  prosperous 
New  Year;  but  it  was  not  from  them  that  the  holly  got 
its  name  but  from  the  early  Christians,  who  took  the 
holly  and  decorated  their  churches  with  it  and  called  it 
holy-tree  because  of  the  use  to  which  they  put  it.  Up 
in  the  land  of  Germany  they  called  it  Christ's  thorn, 
and  according  to  tradition,  the  holly  was  the  burning 


THE   HOLLY   TREE 

bush  in  which  Jehovah  appeared  to  Moses, — for  in 
the  warm  southern  countries  the  holly  grows  low  and 
broad  and  bushy. 

In  the  northern  countries  the  holly  is  a  big  tree  from 
twenty  to  fifty  feet  high,  and,  besides  its  bright  red  berries 
and  glossy,  green  leaves  it  has  a  very  hard  and  fine 
grained  wood,  white  and  smooth  as  ivory,  which  is  used 
for  inlaying  with  other  woods,  for  making  fancy  articles, 
boxes,  handles  for  tools  and  for  metal  teapots,  and  in 
making  many  beautiful  things. 

Besides  being  of  use  and  beauty  indoors  the  holly 
makes  lovely  hedges  for  our  gardens,  and  in  old-fash 
ioned  days  the  trees  were  clipped  into  fancy  and  odd 
shapes. 

We,  like  the  early  Christians,  decorate  our  churches 
with  the  holy-tree,  or  holly-tree,  and,  like  the  old 
Romans,  we  send  sprigs  of  it  to  our  friends  with  wishes 
for  a  happy  New  Year. 


"iMarch  in  Janiveer,  Janiveer  in  March  I  Fear" 


"FKBRUEER   DOTH   CUT  AND  SHEAR" 


The  Herald-Tree 


With  energy 

N       S'  ' 


— N— N-r    - 


Z3n 

When  the  days    are    short    and    cold,  Then  the  trees    like      sol  -  diers 


bold,         Stand  up       in     a    martial       row,        Pointing  to    the  South,  you  know.       And  up 


/TN 


high     their     voi    -    ces       cry, 


And     up    high    their      voi    -   ces       cry: 


"Stir       the  sap,    my     com  -  rades    dear,  Stir       the  sap     and     nev  -  er      fear. 


E: 


--,—,— I 


E^?=      HE  II 

=^z=    -*E±=E^E^E 


'We       have  heard  a         bu  -  gle     clear,        Spring    will  soon,  will     soon       be       here." 


THE  HERALD  TREK 


When  the  days  are  short  ana  cold 
Then  the  trees,  like  soldiers  hold, 
Stand  up  in  a  martial  row, 
Pointing  to  the  South,  you  know. 
And  up  high  their  voices  cry — 
Stir  the  sap,  my  comrades  dear, 
Stir  the  sap  and  never  fear, 
We  have  heard  a  bugle  clear, 
Spring  will  soon  he  here  ! 


THE  HERALD  TREE 

jfebruarp 

"In  the  heart  of  every  forest  tree  — 

The  blood  is  all  aglee, 

And  there's  a  look  about  the  leafless  bowers 
As  if  they  dreamed  of  flowers." 

TlMROB 

Trees  grow  very  much  as  boys  and  girls  grow.  They 
grow  from  something  small  and  helpless  into  something 
large  and  strong. 

Trees  grow  from  small  seeds  or  stones  into  great 
towers  of  wide-spreading  green  branches,  and  they  count 
their  years  not  by  wrinkles  but  by  rings,  fust  as  boys 
and  girls  need  plenty  of  good,  pure  blood  in  order  to 
grow  big  and  strong,  so  the  trees  need  it  too,  only  their 
blood  is  called  sap. 

Trees  take  a  long  nap  in  the  winter,  but  in  the  month 
of  February  they  show  signs  of  waking  up.  The  sap  stirs 
and  then  something  begins  to  grow.  If  you  watch  a. 
tree  carefully  all  through  the  year  you  will  find  what  a 
beautiful  barometer  it  is,  how  it  will  tell  you,  in  tree 
language,  which  season  is  approaching* 

'7 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

The  dead-looking  trees  of  winter  suddenly  change 
color,  little  hard  buds  appear,  "when  red  grows  the 
maple,  so  fresh  and  so  pleasing,"  and  with  every  rain  and 
sunbeam  glance  these  buds  swell  and  swell.  Blossom 
by  blossom  the  spring  begins,  until  lo!  some  fair  morn 
ing  the  earth  is  changed  into  a  flower  show,  the  perfume 
of  blossoms  fills  the  air  and  every  tree  hangs  out  its 
banner.  Some  are  pink,  others  white  and  green,  still 
others  green,  white  and  pink,  and  — 

"Oh,  the  birds,  the  trees,  the  ruddy 
And  white  blossoms,  sleek  with  rain ! " 

Then  the  next  thing  we  see 

"The  blossoms  in  the  sweet  May  wind 
Falling  like  the  snow." 

Soon  little,  hard,  green  fruits  are  hanging  in  their 
places,  the  leaves  begin  to  grow  large  enough  to  cast 
shadows  over  the  grass,  and  we  say,  "When  the  branch 
is  tender,  and  putteth  forth  her  leaves,  ye  know  that 
the  summer  is  nigh."  Then  the  sun  gets  warmer  and 
the  trees  grow  big  and  strong,  and  "we  love  them,  adore 
them  in  the  fields,  where  they  are  alive,  holding  their 
green  sun-shades  over  our  heads,  talking  to  us  with  their 
hundred  thousand  whispering  tongues,  looking  down 
on  us  with  their  sweet  meekness."  Now  we  know  the 
that  summer  is  at  its  height,  but  while  we  sit  underneath 

18 


THE    HERALD   TREE 

some  wide-spreading  green  tree  we  see  a  little  leaf  fall. 
It  turns  and  turns  as  it  falls  and  it  makes  never  a  sound; 
but  "leaves  have  their  time  to  fall."  It  was  no  accident 
that  made  the  little  leaf  jump  from  the  tree  to  the 
ground.  We  look  around  us  in  a  few  more  days  and  we 
see  the  grand  old  oak  who  — 

"  Has  stood  for  a  thousand  years, 
Has  stood  and  frown'd 
On  the  trees  around, 
Like  a  king  among  his  peers ; 
As  round  their  king  they  stand,  so  now, 
When  the  riowers  their  pale  leaves  fold, 
The  tall  trees  round  him  stand  array'd 
In  their  rohes  of  purple  and  gold." 

And  it  is  autumn,  and  the  trees  are  dropping  their  bright 
leaves  and  warm-colored  fruits  just  as  a  fairy  drops  his 
visible  cloak. 

It  has  all  been  so  quietly  done,  like  the  turning  of 
the  pages  of  a  lovely  picture  book.  Not  a  single  tree 
was  ever  heard  to  complain;  each  one  did  its  best  to 
make  the  earth  a  pleasant,  happy,  fruitful,  beautiful  spot. 
Every  tree  has  had  its  blossom,  its  fruit,  and  its  leaf,  and 
"in  the  leaf  is  the  strength  of  the  tree." 

"Leafless  are  the  trees;  their  purple  branches 
Spread  themselves  abroad,  like  reefs  of  coral, 

Rising  silent 
In  the  red  sea  of  the  winter  sunset." 

19 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE    TREES 

The  year  is  at  its  end,  the  winter  is  come — 

"  How  peaceful  sleep 
The  tree-tops  altogether." 

But   February  is  the  short  month,  it  connects  winter 
with  spring,  while  — 

"  The  Fehruary  sunshine  steeps  your  boughs, 
And  tints  the  buds  and  swells  the  leaves  within." 


February  makes  a  bridge,  and  March  breaks  it 


"MAD  AS  A  MARCH  HARE' 


The  Wind  Tree 


^         J 

— *-        -  9  *-'- 


Blow,         blow,         blow  And  O  !  ho  !  ho  !        ho  ! 


Lis-ten     to    the     trees —  as  they  snap    and     sneeze,       When  the  wind    in     play, 


—  N-r 


L 

—  &- 


II 


Twists  them      ev     -  'ry      way,         Then    'tis      blow,  blow,  blow. 


THE  WIND  TREE 


Blow,  blow,  blow, 

And  O,  ho,  ho,  ho  ! 

Listen  to  the  trees, 

As  they  snap  and  sneeze, 

When  the  wind  in  play 

Twists  them  every  way, 

Then  'tis  blow,  blow,  blow. 


THE  WIND  TREE 


"  With  rushing  winds  and  gloomy  skies 
The  dark  and  stubborn  winter  dies; 
Far  off,  unseen,  spring  faintly  cries, 
Bidding  her  earliest  child  arise  : 

March!"  —BAYARD  TAYLOR 

What  is  it  that  we  hear  but  never  see  ?  That  pushes 
us,  and  pulls  us,  tears  the  leaves  off  the  trees,  rolls  the 
clouds  across  the  sky,  and  yet  we  can  never  catch  nor 
touch  ? 

It  is  the  wind. 

"The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest 
the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh 
and  wrhither  it  goeth." 

The  wind  is  a  great  musician  and  makes  music  soft 
and  low,  loud  and  high.  The  trees  are  its  instruments, 
the  branches  and  leaves  are  the  strings  and  keys  upon 
which  it  plays  when  it  — 

"Sweeps  the  broad  forest  in  its  summer  prime 
As  when  some  master  -hand  exulting  sweeps 
The  keys  of  some  great  organ." 

9.7 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

The  pine-tree  is  the  deepest  bass  instrument  in  the 
tree  orchestra  — 

"  Its  cloudy  boughs  singing,  as  suiteth  the  pine, 
To  snow-bearded  sea-kings  old  songs  of  the  brine." 

It  sings  "in  the  storm  like  a  prophet" — yes,  it  sings  "of 
wild  billows  in  motion." 

The  oak-tree  gives  another  deep  sound,  steady  and 
free  and  strong  but  not  so  sad  as  the  note  of  the  pine. 
The  oak  boughs  "make  music  of  the  winter  air,"  and 

"  In  soft,  long  strokes 
The  wind  goes  murmuring  through  the  mountain  oaks." 

The  birch,  "most  shy  and  lady-like  of  trees,"  has  a 
sweet,  high  tone  "like  a  ripple,  like  a  river,"  for  its 
leaves  are  never  still  but  "palpitate  forever."  And  the 
tall,  lovely  perfumed  linden-tree  "hums  with  a  louder 
concert,"  while  the  gentle  poplar,  the  "quivering  pop 
lar,"  adds  its  tone  to  the  chorus. 

The  wind  plays  on  the  trees  in  the  orchard  — 

"The  summer's  song,  the  autumn's  sigh, 
In  the  boughs  of  the  apple-tree." 

And  down  by  the  brook  grows  an  ancient  willow.     He 
is  — 

"  The  friend  of  all  the  winds,  wide  armed 

he  towers 

And  glints  his  steely  aglets  in  the  sun, 
Or  whitens  fitfully  with  sudden  bloom 
Of  leaves  breeze-lifted." 

28 


THE   WIiND   TREE 

The  stately  elms  with  their  "nodding  crests"  and  the 
sycamore  and  maple  have  powerful  voices  when  the 
wind  strikes  their  branches. 

Every  tree,  big  and  little,  has  its  own  musical  note, 
'and  the  green,  dark  forest  is  like  a  concert  hall,  tor, 
besides  the  wind  as  conductor  and  the  tree  orchestra, 
there  are  the  singers,  the  birds. 

"  There  is  singing  of  birds  in  the  deep,  wet  woods, 
In  the  heart  of  the  listening  solitudes, 
Pewees,  and  thrushes,  and  sparrows,  not  lew, 
And  all  the  notes  of  their  throats  are  true." 

Then- 

"The  crows  go  by,  a  noisy  throng; 

And  up  the  leafless  tree 
The  nuthatch  runs,  and  nods  and  clings; 
The  bluebird  dips  with  flashing  wings; 
The  robin  flutes;  the  sparrow  sings 
And  the  swallows  float  and  flee/' 


March  birds  are  best 


APRIL  SHOWERS  BRING  FORTH   MAY  FLOWERS 


The  Rock-a-bye  Tree 


Dreamily. 

^1 


i— -\—     —  v- 

__*rZI 


The       peach  tree       and  tlie          pear. 


Have 


=£j 


decked     their    branch  -   es  bare 


With    bios    -  sums      white      and 


pink Which  real    -     ly        make     you      think Of       ba    -    bies 


sweet       and        fair Then  Rock    -  a  -   bye        bios  -   soins,      in        the  spring 


rit. 


air Rock     -    a    -    bye,      rock    -    a    -  bye,     pink       and        so       fair. 


THE  ROCK-A-BYE  TREE 


The  peach  tree  and  the  pear 
Have  decked  their  branches  hare 
With  blossoms  white  and  pink. 
Which  really  make  you  think, 
Of  babies  sweet  and  fair. 

Then  rock-a-bye  Blossoms, 

In  the  Spring  air, 

Rock-a-bye,  Rock-a-bye, 

Pink  and  so  fair. 


THE  ROCK-A-BYE  TREE 


"Trees  themselves  are  ours; 
Fruits  are  horn  of  flowers; 
Peach,  and  roughest  nut,  were 
flowers  in  the  spring." 

—  LEIGH    HUNT 

Side  by  side  in  the  garden  grow7  the  peach-tree  and 
the  pear,  two  of  our  lovely  and  delicious  fruit  trees. 

O  pretty  trees,  growing  together  under  the  warm  blue 
sky  and  bright  sun  of  America,  how  came  you  here  and 
from  where  did  you  come? 

The  little  peach-tree  shakes  its  pink  blossoms  in  the 
spring  air  without  the  sign  of  a  green  leaf,  and  the  big 
pear-tree,  with  its  rough  bark,  spreads  out  its  branches 
of  fair  white  blossoms  surrounded  by  bright,  shining, 
green  leaves. 

When  the  pink  and  white  blossoms  fall  to  the  ground 
then  the  peach-tree  has  long,  narrov  green  leaves  and 
the  peaches  come  with  soft,  velvety  skins  and  green,  bit 
ter-tasting  stones  in  them.  Yes,  stones,  not  seeds,  and  in 
them,  too,  lies  hidden  the  sweet  pink  and  cream-colored 

37 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

fruit.  At  the  same  time  the  rough  old  pear  hangs  from  its 
branches  long  green  fruit  having  a  skin  as  smooth  and 
clean  as  an  apple,  with  a  core  and  seed  like  an  apple; 
and  when  the  peaches  turn  from  green  to  soft  yellow  and 
pink,  the  pears  turn  yellow  and  brown. 

O  yes,  we  know  they  can't  possibly  be  any  relation 
to  each  other,  although  they  stand  side  by  side  in  the 
garden. 

The  dainty  peach  is  a  foreigner,  as  strange  as  the  Ara 
bian  Nights,  and  comes  to  us  from  the  land  of  elephants 
and  oriental  rugs,  for  it  was  brought  to  us  from  far-away 
Persia  and  India.  It  is  a  cousin  of  the  plum,  the  cherry, 
apricot  and  almond- — all  having  stones  inside  instead  of 
seeds. 

In  our  country  we  have  large  peach  orchards,  espe 
cially  in  the  states  of  New  Jersey,  Maryland,  Illinois  and 
Michigan.  In  England  they  train  the  peach  against  the 
walls,  and  often  have  it  in  hot-houses. 

Peaches  are  preserved,  dried  or  made  into  brandy;  but 
it  seems  to  me  the  best  way  to  eat  one  is  to  sit  down  on 
an  oriental  rug,  brush  the  velvet  off  the  pretty  peach- 
skin  very  carefully,  so  it  will  not  pucker  the  mouth,  and 
then  bite  slowly  into  the  luscious  fruit  while  one  reads 
a  book  of  fairy  tales. 

Now  the  pear-tree  is  very  different,  though  it,  too, 
has  been  brought  to  us.  It  is  a  cousin  of  the  apple,  and 

38 


THE   ROCK-A-BYE   TREE 

the  old  Romans  loved  both  the  pear  and  the  apple.  I 
suspect  they  carried  them  around  in  their  pockets  and 
scattered  the  seed.  Certainly  the  pear  was  brought  to  us 
from  England  by  our  great-great-grandfathers;  we  might 
call  it  one  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  so  might  we  call 
the  apple.  There  are  wild  pears  and  cultivated  ones; 
indeed,  there  are  so  many  kinds  that  one  hardly  knows 
what  to  do  with  them  all.  Over  one  thousand  different 
varieties  are  grown  in  our  country  alone. 

Some  pears  take  a  long  time  to  ripen  and  have  to  be 
picked  late  in  the  autumn,  in  frosty  weather.  They  are 
then  put  in  the  loft  or  attic  and  allowed  to  ripen,  up 
there  in  the  dark.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  says  that 
pears  make  him  think  of  people;  that  men  remind  him 
of  pears  in  their  ways  of  growing  old.  "Some  are  ripe  at 
twenty — and  must  be  made  the  most  of,  for  their  day 
is  soon  over.  Some  come  into  their  perfect  condition 
late,  like  the  autumn  kinds,  and  they  are  better  than 
the  summer  fruit;  and  some,  that,  like  the  winter  pears, 
have  been  hard  and  uninviting  until  all  the  rest  have 
had  their  season,  get  their  glow  and  perfume  long  after  the 
frost  and  snow  have  done  their  worst  with  the  orchards." 

"There's  a  dance  of  leaves  in  that  aspen  bower, 

There's  a  titter  of  winds  in  that  heechen  tree, 
There's  a  smile  on  the  fruit,  and  a  smile  on  the  flower, 
And  a  laugh  from  the  brook  that  runs  to  the  sea." 

39 


"When  April  blows  his  horn,  it's  good  for  both  hay  and  corn' 


"BEANS   BLOW   BEFORE   MAY   DOTPI   GO 


The  Blossom  Tree 


Bios     -     sums,        bios    -    soms  in  the      month       of         May, 


Tell  me,  tell  me  have       you       come         to          stay? 


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Chil          dren,  chil     -     dren,  we        have      come        to          stay, 


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On  ly  we       change  in     -      to          fruit 


day. 


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Blossom,  blossom, 
In  the  month  of  May, 
Tell  us,  tell  us, 
Have  you  come  to  stay? 
Children,  children, 
We  have  come  to  stay, 
Only  \ve  change, 
Into  fruit  some  dav. 


THE  BLOSSOM  TREE 


"Have  you  seen  an  apple  orchard  in  the  spring? 

In  the  spring? 

An  English  apple  orchard  in  the  spring? 
When  the  spreading  trees  are  hoary 
With  their  wealth  of  promised  glory, 
And  the  Mavis  sings  its  story, 
In  the  spring." 

—  Wi  I.LI  AM    MARTIN 

One  reason  why  a  tree  never  seems  old  to  us  is  be 
cause  once  every  year  it  is  covered  with  gay  blossoms 
and  delicate,  green  buds.  No  matter  how  old  it  is,  it 
blossoms  regularly.  The  more  alive  it  is  the  more  blos 
soms  it  has. 

How  the  bare,  cold,  dead-looking  branches  can  so 
suddenly  break  out  into  the  lovely,  sweet-scented,  and 
delicate  pink  and  white  blossoms,  is  something  most 
wonderful  and  most  beautiful. 

There  is  a  little  verse  that  says, 

"  Do  like  the  things  in  the  garden  —  (), 
Just  keep  quiet  a  while  and  grow,— 

This  is  exactly  what  the  trees  do.    We  never  hear  them 

47 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

growing,  and  they  never  make  any  fuss  about  it;  but 
as  long  as  the  earth  lasts  there  will  be  spring,  summer, 
autumn  and  winter  —  or  blossom,  leaf,  fruit  and  bare 
branch. 

There  is  an  old  tradition  that  says:  " If  the  oak  gets 
into  leaf  before  the  ash  we  may  expect  a  fine  and  pro 
ductive  year,  but  if  the  ash  comes  first  into  leaf,  then 
look  out  for  a  cold  summer  and  a  poor  harvest." 

April  and  May  are  called  the  "keys  of  the  year." 
These  are  the  two  beautiful  blossom  months,  and  if  all 
goes  well  with  the  blossoms  the  fruit  will  grow  mellow 
and  ripe  in  the  autumn,  for  "everything  depends  on  the 
beginning." 

This  is  the  importance  of  being  a  blossom  —  it  is  the 
beginning.  The  dainty  little  blossoms  with  their  pink 
and  white  faces  and  the  delicate  green  buds,  which  make 
such  a  fair  beginning, — what  becomes  of  them  all — how 
do  they  end? 

The  blossoms  change  into  fruits  and  nuts,  apples, 
pears,  plums,  cherries,  peaches,  chestnuts  and  hickory- 
nuts,  walnuts  and  beechnuts  —  all  these  and  many  more 
that  were  blossoms  in  the  early  spring — while  the  little 
green  buds  change  into  the  leaves,  the  wonderful,  ever- 
changing  leaves. 

"The  maple  puts  her  corals  on  in  May, 
But  when  the  autumn  southward  turns  awray, 

48 


THE   BLOSSOM    TREE 

Then  in  her  veins  burns  most  the  blood  of  spring, 
And  every  leaf,  intensely  blossoming, 
Makes  the  year's  sunset  pale  the  set  of  day." 

There  are  always  a  great  many  more  leaves  than  there 
are  blossoms,  and  this  is  because  through  the  leaves  the 
tree  takes  in  air  and  sunshine.  Trees  have  to  eat  and 
drink  to  keep  alive,  and  so  the  roots  hunt  around  in  the 
earth,  sometimes  traveling  a  long  way  to  find  water. 

But  it  is  the  leaf  of  the  tree  that  does  the  breath 
ing.  The  tree's  mouth  is  under  the  ground,  while  its 
head  is  high  up  in  the  air.  Its  trunk  is  very  much  like 
our  body,  for  it  holds  up  the  tree  and  its  branches.  The 
bark  of  the  tree  is  its  skin.  It  is  very  precious  and  should 
never  be  cut  or  hurt.  Then  the  branches  are  its  arms, 
and  on  these  arms  are  its  pretty  green  leaves  and  fair 
blossoms,  or  fruit. 

The  leaves  are  part  of  the  life  of  the  tree,  but  the 
fruits  are  the  tree's  children.  They  are  like  little  birds  in 
a  green  nest.  At  first  they  hang  close  and  tight  to  the 
branches,  but  by  and  by,  as  they  get  big  and  strong,  they 
drop  off  and  go  out  into  the  world  in  baskets,  and 
barrels,  and  bags;  or  they  roll  off  somewhere  under  the 
high  grass  and  fallen  leaves,  and  the  first  thing  we  know 
there  is  a  new  little  tree;  tor  all  fruits  have  seeds  inside  of 
them  which  are  the  baby  trees. 


49 


'A  swarm  of  bees  in  May  is  worth  a  load  of  hay  " 


CALM  WEATHER  IN  JUNF 
SETS  CORN  IN  TUNE" 


The  Rose-Tree 


A  -  round  the     red      rose-tree,      Oh    come,  dance  with      me,         Tis 


now       in        pink  -  est     bloom...          And    has         a        sweet    perfume Oh 


rose  tree.        fair      rose    -     tree,        Shake      thy       pet    -     al.s       o'er  me, 

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Pink  -  est      bloom,.,     sweet     per-fume.       Oh     rose-  tree,     fair    rose   -    tree. 


THE  ROSE  TREE 


Around  the  Red  Rose  Tree, 
Oh  !  come  and  dance  with  me, 
'Tis  now  in  pinkest  bloom, 
And  has  a  sweet  perfume. 
O  Rose  Tree,  fair  Rose  Tree, 
Shake  thy  petals  over  me, 
Pinkest  bloom,  sweet  perfume, 
O  Rose  Tree,  fair  Rose  Tree. 


THE  ROSE  TREE 

Slum 

"  Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a  Hying; 
And  the  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day, 
To-morrow  will  be  dying." 

—  ROBERT   HER  RICK 

Some  trees  grow  as  high  as  our  hearts,  and  this  is  the 
height  of  the  rose-tree. 

The  rose  family  is  very  large;  there  are  wild  roses, 
hot-house  roses,  and  garden  roses;  hundreds  and  hun 
dreds  of  roses,  red,  white,  pink  and  yellow.  Some  of 
them  grow  in  little  red  pots,  some  grow  big  and  bushy 
beside  old  fences,  some  climb  and  climb,  high  and  still 
higher. 

Children,  birds  and  squirrels  love  best  the  fruit  and 
nut  trees;  men  love  the  great  oak,  the  maple,  and  the 
rich  lumber  trees;  while  poets  and  lovers  love  the  rose- 
tree. 

Rose-trees  grow  all  over  the  world,  but  it  is  said  by 
Sir  John  Mandeville  that  the  first  rose-tree  grew  in  Beth 
lehem.  A  Jewish  maiden  living  there  was  loved  by  a 

57 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

cruel  man  whom  she  could  not  love  in  return.  So  in 
revenge  he  said  she  was  a  demoniac,  and  had  her  con 
demned  to  be  burned  at  the  stake.  But  the  flames  would 
not  burn  the  stake;  instead  it  blossomed  out  full  of  roses, 
and  the  maiden  stood  beneath  the  "first  rose-tree  seen 
on  earth  since  Paradise  was  lost."  This  rose-tree  had  both 
white  and  red  roses  on  it:  the  white  roses  blooming  from 
the  wood  that  did  not  burn,  and  the  red  from  that  which 
caught  fire. 

Ever  since  that  time  has  the  rose-tree  had  its  thorns, 
its  wonderful  perfume  and  its  beauty.  Because  the  first 
rose-tree  sprang  from  round  a  virgin  martyr  at  Bethlehem, 
many  pictures  of  the  saints  are  painted  with  roses. 

But  the  rose  has  been  carried  from  peaceful  Bethle 
hem  and  from  the  stake  out  into  the  big,  fighting  world. 
It  has  gone  into  the  battle-field,  and  the  red  and  white 
roses  have  had  to  fight  and  see  each  other  bleeding  and 
dying  on  the  smoky  field  of  war. 

It  was  the  "Wars  of  the  Roses"  that  lasted  thirty 
years — an  English  war, — of  brothers; — and  in  England 
you  will  see  the  rose  used  as  a  sign  on  inns,  and  on  coats- 
of-arms;  it  being  an  emblem  of  England,  and  also  an 
emblem  of  silence. 

Besides  being  a  sign  of  love  and  war,  the  rose  is  one 
of  the  emblems  of  our  Church  and  religion.  It  is  said 
that  in  the  time  of  the  Crusades  the  common  June 

58 


THE    ROSK   TREE 

rose,  that  lovely  rose,  was  brought  to  France  from  Syria. 
Other  roses  are  said  to  have  come  from  Damascus  and 
the  Caucasus  Mountains,  from  Persia,  China,  India. 
Little  Holland  sent  the  moss-rose  to  England  in  1596. 

While  other  trees  give  us  wood  for  houses,  furniture, 
boats  and  carriages;  while  they  give  us  fruits  and  nuts, 
sugar  and  vinegar  for  our  table;  shade  for  the  hot  days 
and  fire  for  the  cold  days  —  the  rose-tree  gives  us  per 
fume —  yes,  perfume. 

"The  gift  of  perfume  *  *  is  a  special  grace  like 
genius  or  like  beauty,  and  never  becomes  common  or 
cheap." 

Perfume  is  like  the  magic  wand  of  a  fairy:  one  little 
drop  of  perfume  can  make  you  see  far-away  gardens  with 
blue  skies  and  singing  birds  and  roses,  roses,  yards  and 
yards  of  roses,  and  gay,  laughing  children. 

To  make  a  pound  of  this  perfume  takes  four  thousand 
pounds  of  rose-leaves.  A  single  drop  of  this  pound  of 
perfume  costs  a  great  deal  of  money,  so  there  is  usually 
but  one  drop  in  a  bottle. 

The  name  of  this  perfume  is  Attar  of  Roses,  and  it  is 
made  in  India  and  Turkey.  Other  countries  make  rose 
perfume  and  rose-water;  but  it  is  this  perfume  that 
comes  to  us  drop  by  drop  that  can  make  us  forget  it  is 
winter,  and  dream  of  roses  blooming  over  the  head  of 
the  maiden  of  Bethlehem,  dream  of  the  bloody  battle- 

59 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

fields  in  England,  and  of  the  Crusaders  riding  home  on 
their  prancing  steeds  from  the  holy  wars  with  roses  on 
their  hearts. 

"  I  will  plight  with  the  dainty  rose. 
For  fairest  of  all  is  she." 


60 


If  on  the  eighth  of  June  it  rain, 

It  foretells  a  wet  harvest,  man  sain  " 


"NO  TEMPEST  GOOD  JULY" 


The  Cherry-Tree 


In        the     spring  the       cher  -  ry    -  tree,  Is        as     white    as        it       can       be, 


White      as       pop  -  corn,  white     as      milk,      White     and      lino       as      dain    -  ty      silk; 


But     when     spring  has  passed    a   •  way,         And    warm     sum- mer's  coin e    to       stay, 


Then     my      milk  -  white  cher  -  ry   -  tree,       Turns        as       red       as         red     can       be. 


Of    -    ten     have        I       asked      it      why,        Yet        it         nev    -    er     makes     re  -  ply, 


-JT—9 

But     keej)S    turn  -   ing     white     to        red, 


In       the     night   when      I'm      in       b»-d. 


Tn  the  Spring  the  Cherry  Tree 
Is  as  white  as  white  can  be, 
But  when  Spring  has  passed  away 
And  warm  Summer's  come  to  stav 
Then  my  milk-white  Cherry  Tree 
Turns  as  red  as  red  can  be. 
Often  have  I  asked  it  why — 
Vet  it  never  makes  reply ; 
But  keeps  turning  white  to  red 
In  the  night  when  I'm  in  bed. 


THE  CHERRY  TREE 


"  You  will  find  something  far  greater  in  the  woods  than 
you  will  ever  find  in  books.  Stones  and  trees  will  teach 
you  that  which  you  will  never  learn  from  masters." 

—  ST.   BERNARD 

Did  you  ever  wonder  who  gave  the  trees  their  names? 
Why  do  we  call  one  tree  by  one  name  and  the  next  tree 
by  another?  The  gay  little  cherry-tree  growing  in  our 
garden  with  its  white  blossoms  looking  like  fresh  pop-corn 
strung  on  its  branches,  and  later  in  the  year  its  bright 
bunches  of  scarlet,  almost  heart-shaped,  fruit,  —  where 
and  how  did  it  get  its  spring-like  and  pretty  name:5 

Long,  long  ago,  in  a  far-away  land,  the  mighty  Ro 
mans  started  out  to  conquer  the  world,  and  wherever 
they  went  they  took  their  laws  with  them.  They  did  not 
kill  the  strangers  they  conquered,  but  they  tried  to  make 
Romans  of  them,  and  they  learned  all  they  could  from 
their  enemies.  When  coming  home  from  a  victory  they 
would  bring  many  new  and  lovely  things. 

One  time  they  came  home  with  nuts  in  their  pockets 
—  chestnuts!  Again  they  came  back  with  cherries,  and 

67 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

that  is  how  the  pretty  tree  got  its  name,  for  they  found 
the  tree  in  Asia  Minor  in  a  place  called  Cerasus,  which, 
turned  into  our  language,  means  cherry. 

What  an  old,  old  name  it  is,  and  what  a  distant  one! 
And  yet  it  sounds  quite  new  and  fresh  and  home-like  to 
us  here  in  the  United  States  of  America. 

How  surprised  those  old  Romans  would  be  to  see  our 
three  hundred  kinds  of  cherries;  for  they  knew  of  but 
eight  or  ten  kinds. 

There  are  two  different  families  of  cherry-trees,  the 
cultivated  and  the  wild.  The  cultivated  family  grows  in 
our  gardens,  and,  in  the  summer  months  there  is  nearly 
always  one  or  more  of  the  family  hanging  its  fruit  ready 
for  man's  or  bird's  meal -time.  The  color  of  the  fruit 
varies  all  the  way  from  white  to  almost  black,  count 
ing  all  shades  of  red  between. 

The  Japanese  artists  have  drawn  and  painted  and  em 
broidered  the  cherry-blossoms  on  fans  and  vases  and 
kimonos,  and  have  made  artificial  flowers  of  it,  looking 
so  like  the  real  cherry  as  to  make  us  think  it  is  a  branch 
in  full  bloom. 

It  takes  less  time  to  pick  three  or  four  cherries  off  the 
tree  than  to  pick  one,  for,  unlike  most  other  fruits,  the 
cherries  grow  in  bunches.  The  cherry-tree  laden  with  its 
clusters  of  small  shiny  fruit  seems  to  many  the  prettiest 
of  all  the  fruit-trees. 

68 


THE   CHERRY   TREE 

Ruskin  tells  us  that  "the  fruit  of  a  tree  is  either  for 
the  continuance  of  its  race,  or  for  the  good,  or  harm,  of 
other  creatures.  In  no  case  is  it  good  for  the  tree  itself." 

Now  there  is  a  member  of  the  cherry  family  quite 
different  from  the  cultivated  garden  cherry.  It  is  wild? 
and  grows  in  the  forest  to  be  a  big  tree,  O  yes,  a  very 
big  tree,  with  its  long  green  arms  waving  a  hundred  feet 
in  the  air.  The  fruit  of  this  tree  is  not  very  valuable,  but 
the  tree  itself  is,  because  of  its  wood,  which  is  used  in 
the  making  of  furniture.  The  wood  is  as  beautiful,  in 
its  way,  as  the  white  blossoms  and  red  fruit  of  the  culti 
vated  family.  It  is  red,  deep  red  in  color,  becoming 
more  and  more  beautiful  the  older  it  grows,  and  it  takes 
a  high  polish  when  made  into  chairs,  beds,  clocks,  doors, 
and  many,  many  other  things.  So  you  see  we  have 
cherry-trees  in  the  garden  and  we  have  cherry-trees  in 
the  house;  and  what  is  still  a  very  strange  thing  we  may 
eat  cherry  preserves  for  our  supper  and  after  supper  take 
some  medicine  made  from  still  another  member  of  the 
cherry-tree  family,  which  is  called  choke-cherry. 

This  little  tree  likes  best  to  grow  beside  rivers  and 
brooks,  and  when  its  small,  bitter,  dark  berries  are  ripe, 
the  birds  are  nearly  as  thick  on  the  tree  as  the  berries; 
for  this  is  a  tree  the  birds  love  and  children  care  little 
about,  because  the  berries  are  to  the  birds  like  wine;  but 
the  bark  of  the  tree  is  made  into  a  bitter  medicine  that 

69 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

is  a  good  tonic,  and  is  given  to  children  when  they  feel 
tired  and  have  bad  colds. 

Over  in  England,  and  some  parts  of  Europe,  grows  a 
cherry-tree  belonging  to  the  wild  family  and  its  fruit  is 
highly  prized  in  France  because  it  is  food  for  the  poor. 
The  wood  of  this  tree  is  also  used  for  furniture  and 
musical  instruments.  The  white  and  black  keys  of  the 
piano  are  made  from  cherry-wood  and  covered  with 
ivory  or  stained  black.  So  the  cherry-tree  sings  for  us 
too,  and  so  lightens  our  hearts  while  it  gladdens  our 
eyes  and  satisfies  our  appetite.  O,  a  wonderful  thing  is 
a  tree! 

"Out  of  the  ground  made  the  Lord  God  to  grow  every 
tree  that  is  pleasant  to  the  sight  and  good  for  food." 

—  GENESIS 


70 


"  If  the  first  of  July  it  be  rainy  weather, 
'Twill  rain  more  or  less  for  four  weeks  together" 


DRY  AUGUST  AND  WARM 
DOTH  HARVEST  NO  HARM 


The  Maple-Tree 


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-N-, 1- 


When       the       sun  -  shine's      hot, I        know         a         sha     -     dy 


•v— 


spot 


Where      I  shall     shel     -     ter'd      be. 

/ 


Un  -  der  - 


ijz: 


neath         the        ma  pie     -    tree. 

*  P 


Ma  pie,         ma  pie, 


II 


green     ma    -  pie  -   tree,  Whis  -   per,     whis  -   per       thy        songs        to 


HK  MAPLE  TREE 


When  the  sun  shines  hot, 
I  know  a  shady  spot, 
Where  I  shall  sheltered  he 
Underneath  a  Maple  Tree 
Maple,  Maple, 
Green  Maple  Tree, 
Whisper,  whisper, 
Thv  songs  to  me. 


THE  MAPLE  TREE 

August 

"In  autumn  the  leaves  of  the  maple 
Pave  the  floors  of  the  palace  with  gold." 

—  LONGFELLOW 

In  America  there  lives  a  big,  green  family  of  trees 
which  we  call  natives,  as  we  do  the  Indians.  That  means 
that  they  were  born  here;  no  one  brought  them  over  to 
this  country  from  some  other  country. 

Among  this  big,  green  family  is  the  candy-tree or 

sugar-maple.  There  are  many  other  kinds  of  maple-trees 
growing  in  many  lands  besides  ours,  even  as  far  awav  as 
Asia,  but  the  sugar  maple  is  a  real  American  and  grows 
best  in  Vermont,  New  Hampshire,  New  York,  Pennsyl 
vania,  Ohio  and  Indiana.  It  is  this  sweet  tree  that  gives 
us  our  good  maple-sugar  candy  and  syrup  for  our  cakes. 

The  sugar  in  this  tree  is  the  same  as  that  in  the  sugar 
cane,  and  begins  its  journey  up  the  tree  early  in  the 
spring,  as  early  as  February.  While  other  trees  have 
apple,  pear,  cherry,  plum  and  peach  blossoms,  the  maple 
gets  ahead  of  them  and  starts  its  inside  boilers  at  work 
when  all  out-doors  looks  bleak  and  bare. 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

We  bore  little  holes  in  the  trunks  of  the  trees  not  far 
from  the  ground,  and  in  these  holes,  pipes,  often  made 
of  the  elder,  are  placed,  and  then,  drop  by  drop,  the 
sweet  sugar  comes  out  into  the  buckets.  Then  it  is  put 
into  huge  kettles  and  boiled  and  boiled  until  the  water 
is  got  out  of  it  and  it  turns  into  sugar  and  syrup. 

The  wood  of  the  sugar-maple  is  good  for  fire-wood 
and  charcoal,  and  from  it  some  beautiful  furniture  is 
made,  called  bird's-eye  maple,  because  of  the  strange 
twist  in  its  grain  that  looks  like  the  eye  of  a  bird. 

All  maples  are  beautiful  trees  to  look  at  —  from  early 
spring  till  late  autumn  they  stand  like  large  parasols 
stuck  into  the  ground  to  shelter  us  from  the  too  hot 
rays  of  the  sun. 

Their  great,  green  leaves  spread  and  spread,  and 
change  from  bright,  rich  green  into  orange,  scarlet, 
crimson,  and  yellow,  pure  as  gold,  through  which  the 
sunshine  bids  us  a  good  by  in  autumn. 

The  fruit  of  the  maple  is  very  curious — it  looks  some 
what  like  a  pretty  green  butterfly,  for  the  fruit  has  wings, 
so  that  the  wind  can  carry  it  and  plant  a  maple  far  away. 

There  is  one  maple  called  the  sycamore,  which  is  a 
big,  big  tree,  growing  sometimes  as  high  as  ninety  feet. 
It  likes  the  sea  and  exposed  places,  and  even  a  sycamore 
when  growing  inland  in  a  quiet  garden-spot  seems  to 
feel  lonely  and  long  for  the  sea.  If  you  will  listen  when 


THE   MAPLE   TREE 

the  wind  blows  across  its  great  branches  and  big  leaves, 
von  will  hear  the  tree  murmuring  deep  and  low,  and  it 
will  make  you  think  of  the  sea  and  the  deep,  low  voice 
of  many  waters. 

The  Norway  maple  is  the  greenest  ot  the  family  and 
turns  the  purest  gold  in  the  autumn,  while  the  sweet- 
gum  maple  stands  all  winter  long  like  a  deserted  Christ 
mas  tree,  having  nothing  left  on  it  but  queer  little  spiked 
balls,  hanging  from  its  branches  bv  long  slender  stems. 

Maples  love  the  woods  and  go  climbing  up  and  down 
the  hillsides;  they  almost  seem  to  travel,  sending  their 
little  green  cargo  out  on  the  sweet  spring  air. 

"  Set  trees  poor  and  they  will  grow  rich ; 
Set  them  rich  and  they  will  grow  poor.'' 


79 


"  It  the  twenty-fourth  of  August  be  fair  and  clear, 
Then  hope  for  a  prosperous  autumn  that  year" 


SEPTEMBER   BLOW  SOFT 

TILL  THE  FRUIT'S   IN  THE  LOFT" 


The  Apple-Tree 


Allegretto, 


When      I  go        to      school          I  car    -    ry       with        me,  A 


__fv pv=          =!_._ zqzi  —i 

E*E    EfEEfEE'E  =^=  =^  =i^ 

— •—     _p ^ — 1_  ^__ 


big  red  ap    -     pie        from 


ap    -     pie    -    tree,  And 


. 


A  ---  IT---          iz^zizi^izq 

__=E^EjE    "i==i= 


my         teach    -  er        says,  as       she     shares         it        with      me,        "What 


I   . 


--FV- 


big  red  ap    -     pie       from         a          dear  old  tree.' 


II 


THE  APPLE  TREE 

When  I  go  to  school, 

carry  with  me 
A  big  red  apple 
From  our  Apple  Tree. 
And  my  teacher  says, 
As  she  shares  it  with  me 
"What  a  big  red  apple 
From  a  dear  old  tree." 


THE  APPLE  TREE 

istptcmbcr 

"What  plant  we  in  this  apple-tree' 
Fruits  that  shall  swell  in  sunny   June, 
And  redden  in  the  August  noon, 
And  drop,  when  gentle  airs  come  by, 
That  Ian  the  blue  September  sky." 

—  BRYANT 

Some  families  are  great  travelers  and  in  their  travels 
they  greatly  improve — such  a  family  is  the  dearly  be 
loved  and  highly  prized  apple  family. 

Of  all  the  trees  none,  perhaps,  has  seen  so  much  of 
the  world  as  the  apple.  Its  ancestor  is  supposed  to  be 
the  wild  crab-apple,  that  sweet-scented  tree  growing 
wild  in  many  lands,  having  small  tart  apples. 

But  just  compare  a  wild  crab-apple  with  a  big,  red- 
cheeked  spitzenberg,  or  a  Rhode  Island  greening,  and 
you  will  see  what  travel  and  cultivation  can  do,  even  for 
a  fruit  tree. 

The  Romans  long  ago  loved  and  cultivated  the  apple 
and  took  it  with  them  up  to  their  newly  conquered 
country- -Britain, — and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  loved  the 

8? 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

apple  and  brought  it  with  them  to  their  new-found 
home — America. 

It  is  said  that  the  apples  that  grow  in  our  eastern 
states  are  richer  in  taste  but  not  so  good  looking  as 
those  in  the  western  states,  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  the 
apple  is  still  traveling  and  improving,  and  now  the 
American  apples  are  sent  to  Europe,  China  and  India. 
It  is  as  though  they  had  started  out  to  make  a  journey 
around  the  world,  and  in  doing  it  had  earned  much 
praise,  made  good  names  for  themselves,  and  done  good 
work;  for  every  country  wherein  they  have  lived  has 
something  quite  wonderful  to  tell  of  the  apple. 

Here  is  one  of  the  stories  they  tell  of  the  apple  in 
the  lands  of  Greece  and  Italy: 

Once  on  a  time  at  a  great  wedding  among  the  gods 
and  goddesses  there  was  one  goddess  not  invited.  This 
hurt  her  feelings  so  badly  that  she  took  an  apple,  a 
beautiful  golden  apple,  and,  writing  on  it  "To  the 
fairest,"  she  threw  it  so  that  it  fell  in  the  midst  of  the 
wedding-guests.  Now  she  wanted  this  apple  to  cause 
trouble  and  misfortune,  and  it  did,  for  ever  since  then 
it  has  been  called  the  apple  of  discord.  As  soon  as  the 
guests  saw  it  and  what  was  written  on  it  each  of  the 
three  most  beautiful  goddesses  at  the  feast  thought  she 
ought  to  have  it.  But  as  there  were  three  fair  goddesses 
and  only  one  apple,  a  great  dispute  arose.  There  seemed 

88 


THE   APPLE    TREE 

no  way  to  settle  the  quarrel  until  it  was  decided  to  ask 
a  mortal  man  which  was  the  fairest  of  the  three. 

Now  the  first  one  wanted  the  honor  of  being  the 
fairest,  so  she  said  she  would  give  power  to  the  mortal 
if  he  would  only  give  her  the  apple;  and  the  second  fair 
one  said  she  would  give  him  glory  in  war;  and  the  third 
smiled  and  said  if  he  would  give  her  the  apple  she  would 
give  him  the  most  beautiful  woman  ever  seen. 

So  the  mortal  gave  the  apple  to  the  last  one,  and  she 
gave  him  the  most  beautiful  woman.  But  this  meant 
more  than  the  mortal  knew,  for  in  accepting  the  gift  he 
lost  not  only  his  Hie,  but  his  honor,  the  lives  of  his 
friends,  destroyed  a  great  and  beautiful  city,  and  caused 
a  dreadful  war. 

Alas,  for  the  apple  of  discord! 

This  is  what  is  called  a  mythological  apple,  and  another 
of  the  same  kind  grew  up  in  a  far  northern  country.  This 
is  a  fairy  story  about  a  goddess  who  had  a  box  of  pre 
cious  apples,  one  of  which  a  god  ate  whenever  he  felt 
he  was  growing  old,  and  so  was  kept  ever  young.  These 
are  called  apples  of  perpetual  youth  and  belong  to  the 
same  mythological  family  spoken  of  above. 

When  the  apple  got  up  to  England  it  grew  in  nice, 
pleasant,  real  gardens,  where  little  boys  and  girls  could 
climb  its  branches  and  cat  its  lovely  fruit.  One  day  a 
young  English  gentleman  sat  in  a  garden  thinking  about 

89 


THE  SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

many  things,  when,  snap!  plump!  down  fell  an  apple 
and  up  jumped  the  nice  English  gentleman.  I  suspect 
he  loved  that  apple  all  the  rest  of  his  life,  for  he  was 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and  it  was  this  big,  rosy  apple  that 
helped  him  to  solve  one  of  the  hardest  riddles  ever 
thought  of.  We  call  the  answer  to  this  riddle,  which 
the  apple  helped  Sir  Isaac  to  find,  the  great  and  won 
derful  law  of  gravitation. 

This  was  the  scientific  apple. 

At  the  present  time  there  are  so  many  names  for 
apples  that  it  is  impossible  to  give  them  all.  But  no 
matter  what  its  name  is,  every  apple  is  good  to  cook,  to 
eat,  to  turn  into  cider  or  vinegar.  They  come  to  us  all 
the  year  round  and  from  many  places,  for  they  keep 
better  than  any  other  fruit;  but  the  best  place  of  all  to 
enjoy  one  is  at  its  own  home  in  the  orchard,  under  the 
spreading  branches  of  an  old  apple-tree.  There,  while 
the  wind  sings  low  among  the  bright  fruit,  you  may  eat 
and  listen  to  the  songs  the  leaves  are  singing  of  their 
many  journeys  over  sea  and  land. 

"  It  is  autumn,  and  incessant 

Piped  the  quail  from  shocks  and  sheaves, 
And,  like  living  coals,  the  apples 

Burned  among  the  withering  leaves." 


90 


"  '  Tis  pity  fair  weather  should  do  any  harm 


ugar-<plum 


-GOOD   OCTOBER,  A   GOOD   BLAST, 
TO  BLOW  THE   HOG  ACORN  AND  MAST 


The  Sugar-Plum  Tree 


=*=  —.-  E^E  =^3 

=•=  -•-.     E^^^^E  ~i 

Gay      leaves       are          fall  ing,       Squir  -   rels         are         call      -       ing 


Come,     lit    -    tie       chil     -    dren,  come, 


Jack   Frost       is       drop     -     ping, 


Fronj    tree  -  tops     flop    -    ping,    Nuts    like    brown    su      -      gar  -  plums. 


THE  SUGAR-PLUM  TREE 


Gay  leaves  are  falling, 
Squirrels  are  calling, 
"Come,  little  children,  come,' 
Jack  Frost  is  dropping, 
From  tree-tops  flopping, 
Nuts  like  brown  sugar-plums. 


THE  SUGAR- PLUM  TREE 

October 

"Nuts  among  the  Romans  made  a  standing  dish  at 
dessert;  they  were  also  common  toys  for  children; 
hence  to  put  away  childish  things  is,  in  Latin,  to  put 
your  nuts  away." 

Because  of  the  age  and  beauty  of  the  chestnut  we  will 
begin  the  song  ot  the  sugar-plum  trees  with  it.  Can  any 
of  us  think  of  a  tree  being  five  thousand,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  old?  Hut  such  is  the  age  claimed  for  a 
huge  chestnut-tree  growing  on  Mount  Etna.  It  ranks 
with  four  or  fi\7e  of  the  oldest  trees  on  the  earth,  and  its 
size  is  as  remarkable  as  its  age. 

It  has  received  its  name  "  the  Hundred-Horse  Chest 
nut"  because  once  on  a  time,  when  a  royal  lady  and 
her  royal  companions  were  caught  out  in  a  sudden 
shower,  they  made  a  dash  for  the  wide-spreading  arms 
of  this  huge  tree,  and  the  hundred  horsemen  could  all 
get  under  the  old  tree's  shelter,  it  was  so  big.  It  has  a 
huge  hollow  trunk,  which  is  used  by  shepherds  and  their 
flocks  for  shelter. 

Do  the  years  seem   long  to  a  tree,  I  wonder P     Think 

97 


THE   SONGS  OF   THE   TREES 

of  standing  for  more  than  a  thousand  years!  Brooks 
run  down  hills  into  the  sea;  clouds  fall  in  rain  on  the 
earth,  the  sea  rises  and  falls,  is  constantly  moving  and 
being  caught  up  into  the  sky  to  be  made  into  clouds 
again;  rocks  wear  away  and  crumble;  flowers  bloom  and 
go  to  seed,  curl  up  and  bow  down;  but  a  tree  stands  in 
one  place  all  its  life,  while  deeper  and  deeper  go  its  roots 
seeking  food.  Farther  than  any  other  growing  thing 
does  the  root  of  a  tree  penetrate  our  earth,  and  higher 
and  higher  in  the  sunshine  and  storm  spread  its  branches. 

England  has  a  famous  old  chestnut-tree  that  was 
used  as  a  boundary  mark  in  the  reign  of  King  John,  and 
in  France  there  is  one  nearly  a  thousand  years  old. 

The  old  fighting,  traveling  Romans  were  fond  of  nam 
ing  things,  and  they  named  the  chestnut-tree  just  as  they 
did  the  cherry  —  from  the  place  they  first  found  it,  a 
town  in  Thessaly  called  Castanea. 

In  Europe  the  wood  of  the  chestnut  is  used  in  house 
building  and  in  making  furniture,  and  the  nuts  grow  to 
be  big,  fat  things  which  are  made  into  meal  for  bread. 
The  delicious  marrons  glaces  are  made  from  these  foreign 
chestnuts.  Our  chestnuts  are  much  smaller  and  sweeter, 
and  we  use  the  wood  to  make  posts  and  fences. 

The  chestnut  belongs  to  a  famous  tree  family  and  has 
/or  relations  the  oak  and  beech.  Look  at  a  chestnut, 
an  acorn  and  a  beechnut  and  see  if  you  think  they  look 


THE   SUGAR- PLUM    TREE 

alike.  The  beechnut  is  a  dear  little  French  nut  — a 
real,  three-cornered  cockade  — and  the  sabots,  or  wood 
en  shoes,  of  France  are  made  of  beech  wood.  This  does 
not  mean  that  the  beech-tree  grows  only  in  France;  no, 
the  beautiful  tree  grows  all  over  Europe  and  America. 
In  our  country  it  often  stands  a  hundred  feet  high,  so 
its  little  nuts  have  a  great  fall  to  reach  the  earth.  Squir 
rels  watch  and  wait  for  these  nuts  and  love  them  as  well 
as  children  do. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  beech-trees,  the  white,  the 
red,  one  with  bright,  blood-colored  leaves,  one  with 
copper-colored  leaves,  one  with  leaves  spotted  with  white, 
another  with  leaves  cut  into  narrow  strips,  trees  weeping, 
sweeping  the  ground  with  their  branches;  but  the  kind 
we  are  best  acquainted  with  grows  tall  and  straight.  They 
are  clean  and  green,  and  throw  a  delightful  shade  in  the 
hot  days;  and  then  in  the  autumn,  red,  yellow  and  brown 
turn  the  leaves,  sometimes  clinging  to  the  tree  all  through 
the  winter. 

Indians  and  woodmen  call  this  tree  a  safe  shelter  in  a 
thunder-storm,  for  it  is  so  seldom  struck  by  lightning.  The 
wood  of  the  beech  is  not  firm,  but  rots  in  the  air,  so  no 
very  large  thing  is  made  from  it  except  mill-wheels, 
which  the  water  protects  from  rot. 

Every  American  flag-pole  should  be  made  of  either 
the  sugar-maple  or  the  hickory-tree,  for  both  these  trees 


99 


THE  SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

are  our  very  own  —  native  to  our  country.  They  have 
always  grown  here  and  the  hickory  got  its  name  from  the 
Indians,  not  from  any  Roman  nor  Englishman.  The  In 
dians  pressed  an  oily  liquor  from  the  hickory-nuts,  and 
from  this  the  tree  gets  it  pretty  name. 

It  is  such  a  wild  tree  that  it  likes  to  stay  out  of  doors 
all  the  time,  if  possible,  and  its  wood  is  not  good  for 
furniture  and  house  articles.  It  is  very  tough,  however, 
so  tough  that  it  has  become  an  old  saying  "as  tough 
as  hickory,"  and  for  this  reason  it  is  used  for  carriage- 
shafts,  whip-handles  and  wheel-spokes.  Think  what  fun 
it  is  to  go  driving  in  a  hickory-tree! 

There  are  a  number  of  different  trees  in  the  hickory 
family.  The  best  nuts  for  eating  come  from  the  shell- 
bark,  or  shag-bark,  tree,  while  the  next  best  nuts  come 
from  the  thick-shelled  hickory. 

To  this  family  belongs  the  pecan,  which  is  a  hickory 
growing  in  the  far  western  and  southern  states. 

So  give  three  cheers  for  the  hickory-tree  —  that  waves 
its  beautiful  green  branches  over  the  "land  of  the  free 
and  the  home  of  the  brave." 

We  must  think  of  trees  as  looking  a  little  like  the 
country  in  which  they  were  first  found.  Look  at  a  walnut 
and  guess  where  it  came  from  —  not  the  English  walnut 
but  the  common  kind  —  press  it  and  smell  the  aromatic 
odor  and  see  how  it  stains  the  hands  a  queer  yellow.  It 


TOO 


THE   SUGAR-PLUM   TREE 

is  not  a  dainty  nut,  but  is  rich  and  full  of  oil  and  per 
fume  and  has  this  queer  yellow  dye.  Well,  it  is  a  "native 
of  Persia,  and  has  been  cultivated  in  Europe  since  1562, 
and  it  flourishes  in  gardens  in  the  United  States  from 
Massachusetts  southward  and  westward." 

The  name  walnut  means  foreign  nut,  and  has  nothing 
to  do  with  a  wall;  but  with  an  old  foreign  word  "wal" 
meaning  strange;  "strange-nut"  or  walnut.  The  English 
walnut  came  originally  from  Naples  and  Sicily. 

The  common  walnut  was  known  to  the  old  story- 
loving  people  as  Jove's  food,  and  was  considered  a  roval 
nut.  But  we  to-day  think  more  of  the  walnut  wood 
than  we  do  of  the  nut.  Many  of  us  have  slept  for  years 
in  walnut  cradles  and  beds,  and  have  sat  on  walnut 
chairs.  Besides  nuts  and  line  timber,  some  foreign  wal 
nuts  give  a  quantity  of  oil  used  for  the  table,  for  burn 
ing  in  lamps,  and  artists  mix  some  of  their  paints  with  it. 
A  dye  is  made  from  it  as  well  as  a  wine. 

Think  what  a  wonder-tree  this  is  —  how  like  a  fairy 
it  is  —  how  it  turns  into  so  many  things. 

First,  the  sap  is  changed  into  wine. 

Second,  the  bark,  leaves,  roots  and  husks  into  dye. 

Third,  the  oil  is  used  for  food,  for  burning,  and  for 
pictures. 

Fourth,  the  timber  for  all  kinds  of  furniture. 

Fifth,  the  nuts,  royal  Jove's  food. 


101 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

But  more  wonderful  still  is  the  cocoanut-tree;  with 
one  of  these  in  the  yard  we  should  have  a  grocery  and 
dry-goods  store  all  of  our  very  own,  and  need  never  go 
down  town  to  shop. 

O,  of  all  strange  trees  the  cocoanut  is  the  oddest,  with 
its  tall,  straight  pole-like  trunk,  having  no  branches,  but 
at  the  very  top  a  bunch  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feather-like 
leaves,  under  which  the  funny,  monkey-faced  nuts  grow. 
All  this  at  the  very  top  of  a  long  pole  that  is  sometimes 
twice  as  high  as  a  four-story  house.  The  name  coco 
means  ugly  mask,  and  because  the  nuts  look  like  funny 
monkeys  the  tree  was  given  its  queer  name. 

The  cocoanut  is  a  tropical  pioneer  and  many  of  its 
family  love  the  sea  and  grow  best  by  its  shores,  send 
ing  their  nuts  —  their  big,  hairy-shelled  nuts  —  out  to 
sea,  like  little  boats,  to  land  on  some  far-away  shore. 

Suppose  you  lived  in  South  America  instead  of  North 
America  and  had  a  cocoanut-tree  in  your  yard.  When 
you  got  up  in  the  morning  you  would  wash  your  hands 
with  water  and  soap;  the  soap  would  have  been  made 
from  the  old  nuts  of  the  cocoanut-tree;  then  you  would 
wash  your  teeth  with  a  tooth-powder  made  from  the 
shell  of  the  nuts. 

After  this  you  would  comb  your  hair  with  a  comb 
made  from  a  rib  of  a  leaf;  then  you  would  go  to  break 
fast  and  drink  cocoanut  milk  out  of  a  lovely,  highly 


THE   SUGAR-PLUM   TREE 

polished  little  cup  made  from  the  hard  shell.  You  would 
be  seated  in  a  chair  beautifully  inlaid  with  old  cocoanut 
wood,  which  is  called  porcupine  and  is  very  lovely  when 
used  in  furniture. 

The  little  dress  you  had  on  would  be  made  from  the 
old  leaves,  as  well  as  the  hat  you  would  wear,  and  the 
basket  you  would  carry  as  you  walked  down  to  the 
water,  where  you  would  step  into  a  canoe  made  from 
the  trunk  of  the  tree  with  paddles  made  from  the  rib  of 
a  leaf.  You  see  the  leaf  of  a  cocoanut-tree  is  very  big 
and  strong. 

When  you  came  home  for  luncheon  and  were  sitting 
on  the  front  porch,  you  would  lean  back  against  a  post 
made  from  the  cocoanut  and  fan  yourself  with  a  cocoa- 
nut  fan  made  from  an  old  leaf. 

The  fish-nets  you  left  down  at  the  beach,  drying  in 
the  sun,  would  also  have  been  made  from  the  old  leaves, 
as  well  as  the  writing-paper  on  your  desk. 

At  luncheon  you  would  eat  young  cocoanut  leaves 
cooked  much  like  cabbage,  and  you  would  use  cocoanut 
vinegar  and  oil  for  your  salad,  and  would  finish  your 
meal  with  a  glass  of  palm  wine  made  from  the  flowers 
of  the  famous  tree. 

Of  course  you  would  have  cocoanut  candy  and  plenty 
of  it,  for  there  is  a  sugar  taken  from  the  tree  as  well  as 
milk  and  oil.  This  is  not  a  highly  prized  sugar,  but  it  is 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

quite  peculiar  in  that,  if  mixed  with  lime,  it  makes  a 
strong  cement. 

As  it  grew  dark  and  night  shut  out  the  world  you 
would  go  to  the  barn  to  see  the  horses  by  the  light  of  a 
cocoanut  lantern.  This  would  be  made  from  another 
old  leaf  of  the  tree,  and  when  you  came  back  to  the 
house,  the  lamp  would  be  burning  with  oil  made  from 
the  old  nuts.  As  you  stepped  into  the  hall  your  feet 
would  touch  a  matting  made  from  the  husk  of  the  nut, 
and,  taking  a  cocoanut  candle  made  from  an  old  nut, 
you  would  go  to  bed,  having  sheets  made  from  old  leaves 
and  a  mattress  made  from  the  husk. 

But  before  you  got  in  bed  your  nurse  would  comb 
your  hair  with  your  cocoanut  comb  and  rub  cocoanut 
hair-dressing  into  your  hair  and  then  would  rub  all  your 
body  with  cocoanut-oil. 

I  think  you  would  probably  dream  of  a  cocoanut-tree 
having  monkeys  hanging  on  it  instead  of  nuts,  and  you 
would  think  what  a  hard  tree  it  would  be  to  climb  hav 
ing  no  branches. 

The  first  thing  you  would  hear  when  you  awoke  in  the 
morning,  would  be  some  one  sweeping  the  walk  with  a 
cocoanut  broom,  and,  as  the  sun  came  peeping  through 
your  window  it  would  light  up  your  arrows  and  spear  made 
from  the  ribs  of  the  leaves,  and  you  would  jump  out  of 
your  cocoanut  bed  happy  and  glad  to  begin  your  fun 

104 


THE   SUGAR-PLUM   TREE 

Yes,  it  really  seems  that  a  cocoanut-tree  is  a  tropical 
department  store,  and  that  to  have  a  few  in  one's  yard 
would  be  most  economical.  It  seems  to  be  good  for 
everything  but  shade. 

The  almond-nut  belongs  to  the  peach,  plum  and 
cherry  family,  and  grows  around  the  beautiful,  blue 
Mediterranean. 

The  hazel-nut  and  filberts  belong  to  one  family;  we 
get  our  best  filberts  from  Spain  and  southern  Europe. 

Here  is  a  modern  dessert  and  where  it  comes  from: 

The  hickory-nut,  the  national  nut. 
Chestnuts,  from  all  over  the  world. 
Beechnuts,  from  Europe  and  home. 
Filberts,  from  Spain  and  southern  Europe. 
Almonds,  from  the  blue  Mediterranean. 
Walnuts,  from  Persia,  Europe  and  home. 
Cocoanuts,  from  South  America,  the  East  and 
West  Indies,  and  all  other  tropical  lands. 


105 


'An  evening  red,  and  a  morning  gray,  is  a  sign  of  a  fair  day 


<s 


"NOVEMBER  TAKE  FLAIL, 
LET  SHIPS  NO  MORE  SAIL 


The  Ghost  Tree 


;^ 

The  Ghost  -   tree       sings        ou      No  -  vein    -    b«-r       nights        As       it 


f     —  Jff-    — «  ,-      * 

burns,  and  it         burns  with          a  bin  ish  light;  It 

rit.  dim. 


N- 


--0—  -—--{-  ^ - ^ — 

snaps     up     the    chim  -  ney  with  right  good  might,      And  falls     on     the  hearth    in  -  to 


ash     -     es        white—  "I  am       a      ghost,  I  am       a      ghost,' 


^J;* — * — *t 


i=r. 

Hv V- 


Sings        the  brave        old          tree, 


am       a     ghost, 


II 


I         am     a    ghost,"     As     it    lights      up    the  hearth  stone    tor    you       and        me. 


.^:    V\ 


r/ 


THE  GHOST  TREE 

The  Ghost  Tree  sings  on  November 

nights, 
As  it  burns,  and  it  burns,  with  a  bluish 

light. 
It  snaps  up  the  chimney  with  right  good 

might, 

And  falls  on  the  hearth  into  ashes  white. 
"  I  am  a  ghost,  I  am  a  ghost," 
Sings  the  brave  old  tree. 
"I  am  a  ghost,  I  am  a  ghost." 
As  it  lights  up  the  hearth-stone 
For  vou  and  me. 


THE  GHOST  TREE 


"The  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 
Their  giant  branches  tossed." 

—  HEMANS 

As  we  sit  around  the  great  roaring  fire  and  watch  the 
old  log  snap,  and  blow,  and  whirl,  and  vanish  up  the 
chimney,  we  think  this  is  the  end  of  our  good  times  out 
under  the  beautiful  green  trees.  For  the  trees  stand 
stiff,  and  bare,  and  cold  out  in  the  fast  darkening  days, 
and  soon  the  days  will  be  shorter  and  the  nights  longer, 
and  we  shall  have  no  more  tree-songs  until  the  coming 
of  the  spring. 

Hut  listen  to  the  old  log  as  it  burns;  there  is  nothing 
weary  or  sad  about  it,  and  suppose  we  take  courage 
and  see  what  becomes  of  all  the  trees  —  surely  all  are 
not  used  for  firewood. 

I  have  lived  in  a  tree  all  my  lite,  yes,  a  real  tree,  done 
over  into  a  style  comfortable  tor  me  to  live  in.  That  is, 
I  have  always  lived  in  a  frame  or  wood  house  —  and  I 
wonder  how  many  little  boys  and  girls  sleep  and  dream 
in  tree-tops  every  night  and  have  never  known  it. 

"3 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

Run  and  see  if  you  are  sleeping  in  a  wooden  bed,  and 
if  you  are,  find  out  what  kind  of  tree  made  your  bed. 
Is  it  a  pine?  Then  read  all  the  stories  and  pocrns  about 
the  heroic  pine  family;  or,  is  it  a  walnut,  cherry,  mahog 
any  or  maple?  Every  one  of  these  trees  has  a  story  well 
worth  knowing. 

And  when  you  eat  your  dinner  remember  you  are 
really  at  a  picnic,  for  the  chair  you  sit  on  is  a  tree,  and 
the  table  you  are  eating  from  is  a  tree,  and  if  you  get  a 
good  book  to  read  and  take  with  you  a  nice  red  apple 
and  crawl  up  into  a  big  chair  before  the  fire,  you  will 
like  to  know  that  you  are  still  in  the  wide-spreading 
arms  of  some  famous  old  tree  family.  O  yes,  indeed,  our 
homes  are  full  of  trees. 

This  is  what  John  Ruskin  says  of  a  piece  of  wood: 
"It  can  not  grow,  but  will  not  decay;  keeps  record  of 
its  years  of  life,  but  surrenders  them  to  become  a  con 
stantly  serviceable  thing:  which  may  be  sailed  in  on  the 
sea,  built  with  on  the  land,  carved  by  Donatello,  painted 
by  Era  Angelico." 

So  then  we  remember  that  when  we  take  a  journey 
we  are  traveling  in  trees,  for  our  cars  are  made  from 
them  as  well  as  our  big  ocean  steamers. 

The  little  Indian  boy  felt  safe  and  happy  in  his  birch- 
bark  canoe,  and  the  little  American  boy  feels  safe 
and  happy  as  he  crosses  the  wide,  wide  sea  in  the  big 


114 


THE   GHOST   TREK 

steamer,  which   is  really  a  collection   of  many   kinds  of 


trees. 


"There's  not  a  ship  that  sails  the  ocean, 
But  every  climate,  every  soil, 
Must  bring  its  tribute,  great  or  small, 
And  help  to  build  the  wooden  wall." 

Then  let  us  go  a-hunting  in  our  own  houses,  our 
schools,  our  churches,  our  travels,  and  it  will  be  a  tree- 
hunt.  Let  us  hnd  all  the  trees  we  can  and  see  how  they 
look  without  their  green  leaves  and  roots,  and  let  us  re 
member  what  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  says  of  them: 

"Trees  ....  outgrow  us  and  outlive  us,  but  stand 
helpless  —  poor  things! — while  Nature  dresses  and  un 
dresses  them,  like  so  many  full-sized,  but  under-witted 
children." 

Some  day  we  may  have  the  great  pleasure  of  plant 
ing  a  tree.  It  is  a  wonderful  thing  to  plant  a  tree,  for 
it  is  a  living  thing  and  will  grow  and  grow.  Birds  will 
make  their  homes  in  it,  cattle  and  men  will  seek  its 
shade,  and  its  fruit,  if  it  have  such,  will  become  nourish 
ment  for  men  and  beasts.  The  bees  at  least  will  seek 
its  blossoms,  and  the  winds  will  make  a  harp  of  it, 
and,  according  to  the  shape  of  the  leaves  of  the  tree, 
so  will  the  winds'  song  be;  and  some  day  it  may  give 
its  life  for  the  sake  of  a  child's  little  bed,  or  a  great 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

ship,  a  home,  or  a  big  root  or  branch  for  a  fire  bright 
ening  and  warming  up  the  dark,  cold  days  of  winter. 

"'Who  planted  this  old  apple-tree?' 
The  children  of  that  distant  day 
Thus  to  some  aged  man  shall  say; 
And  gazing  on  its  mossy  stem, 
The  gray-haired  man  shall  answer  them: 
*  A  poet  of  the  land  was  he, 
Born  in  the  rude  but  good  old  times; 
'Tis  said  he  made  some  quaint  old  rhymes 
On  planting  the  apple-tree.'  " 


116 


Thanksgiving  Day 


AT  CHRISTMAS  PLAY  AND  MAKE  GOOD  CHEER 
FOR  CHRISTMAS  COMES  BUT  ONCE  A  YEAR" 


The  Christmas  Tree 


Lit    -   tie     green      tree,  How         I^T..        love       thee,  As 


you 


% 

~%^iEE 

•W         •*• 
grow       in         a         tub      in      the        hall 


With  your  wide  spread-  ing 


E   ±  ^FgE  ip  | 

»•    *  *     v~v  -yr~^~fs-^=^=ir- 


branch-es      and    play-things  and    can  -  dies,    And   the  bless  -  ed     Star   shin- 


ing    oer 


& 

all 


Lit    -  tie     green    tree,  How    much       I         love 


thee-       I     love   thee    the    best        of      them   all. 


THE   CHRISTMAS  TRKK 


Little  Green  Tree, 

How  much  I  love  thee, 

As  you  grow  in  a  tub  in  the  hall, 

With  your  wide-spreading  branches, 

And  playthings  and  candles, 

And  the  blessed  Star  shining  o'er  all. 

Little  Green  Tree, 

How  much  I  love  thee, 
I  love  thee  the  best  of  them  all. 


THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE 

December 

"Come,  ye  children,  blithe  and  merry, 
This  one  Child  your  model  make; 
Christmas  holly,  leaf  and  berry, 
All  be  prized  for  His  dear  sake." 

—  ARCHER  CURXEY 

The  Christmas-tree  does  not  grow  in   the  forest  or  in 
the  garden. 

In  Germany,  the  land  of  toys  and  Santa  Glaus,  lives 
the  Christmas-tree,  and  from  that  land  it  has  traveled 
around  the  world,  but  not  in  the  pockets  or  baggage 
of  the  Germans.  It  has  been  carried  over  the  seas  to  far 
away  lands  in  their  hearts,  and  the  Christmas-tree  is  big, 
and  beautiful,  and  gay,  because  we  love  it,  and  not  be 
cause  of  the  size  of  the  tree. 

Christmas-trees  are  made  from  the  evergreen  family, 
but  that  does  not  mean  that  they  have  all  to  be  of  the 
same  kind;  some  are  firs,  others  yews,  and  still  others 
are  balsam. 

The  beauty  of  the  tree  depends  upon  the  amount  of 
love  that  grows  on  it.  We  place  a  star  on  the  topmost 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

branch  in  memory  of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem;  the  candles 
are  the  blossoms  and  the  gifts  are  the  fruit  of  this  most 
beloved  of  trees.  This  tree  has  no  roots,  does  not  grow, 
and  lasts  only  a  few  days,  for  every  Christmas  a  new 
tree  is  necessary. 

Still,  though  it  is  not  a  real  tree,  it  belongs  to  a  tree 
family,  and  the  name  of  the  family  is  tradition — or  the 
story-tree.  The  trees  in  this  family  do  not  grow,  but 
there  are  new  ones  constantly  being  added,  so,  as  the 
years  go  by,  there  is  a  little  forest  of  story-trees  collect 
ing  in  men's  hearts. 

Only  after  a  tree  has  ceased  to  be  a  real  tree  can  it 
become  a  tree  of  tradition  and  live  in  our  hearts.  When 
all  out-of-doors  is  bleak  and  bare,  then,  instead  of  the 
rose-tree  or  the  nut-tree,  it  is  the  Christmas-tree  we 
dance  around.  Or  perhaps  we  sit  under  the  branches  of 
the  story-trees  and  listen  to  their  tales. 

Among  these  trees  of  tradition  is  a  cherry-tree,  and  it 
was  placed  in  this  orchard  by  George  Washington,  when 
he  was  a  little  boy.  This  is  the  tree  he  cut  down  with 
his  little  hatchet,  and  when  his  father  asked  him  if  he  did 
it,  little  George  would  not,  and  could  not  tell  a  lie,  but 
said  yes,  he  had  cut  it  down.  This  we  call  the  tree  of 
truth  growing  in  the  forest  of  tradition. 

The  tree  in  which  the  Swiss  Family  Robinson  made 
their  home  we  shall  call  the  family  tree. 

124 


THE   CHRISTMAS   TREE 

The  tree  of  peace  is  the  olive.  This  is  the  tirst  tree 
mentioned  in  the  Bible  after  the  flood.  A  dove  brought 
a  branch  of  it  to  Noah  as  he  stood  waiting  in  the  ark. 

The  tree  of  victory  is  the  palm.  Greeks  and  Hebrews 
used  its  branches  as  the  symbols  of  victory,  and  we,  to 
day,  use  it  as  the  symbol  of  victory  at  Easter  time  in  our 
churches. 

The  mythological  apple-trees  —  the  apple  of  discord, 
and  of  perpetual  youth  —  belong  to  the  forest  of  tradi 
tion,  and  to  this  family  belongs  another  mythological 
tree,  the  laurel.  According  to  the  story-loving  Greeks, 
this  tree  was  once  the  daughter  of  a  river-god  whom 
the  sun  changed  into  the  laurel. 

In  this  forest  of  tradition  grows  also  a  tree  called  the 
tree  of  knowledge.  In  size  and  in  beauty  it  is  the  most 
wonderful  of  them  all.  This  wonderful  tree  grew  first  in 
the  fair  garden  of  Eden,  and  up  in  the  far  north  country 
grew  another  tree  something  like  it,  called  Igdrasil,  the 
great  ash-tree  of  time.  This  tree,  it  is  said,  will  not 
wither  until  the  last  battle  shall  have  been  fought, 
when  life,  time  and  the  world  shall  all  have  passed  away. 
An  eagle  sits  on  the  topmost  branch  and  sings  a  strange 
song  of  the  making  and  destroying  of  things. 

There  are  two  other  trees  in  this  mythological  family 
that  we  all  know  very  well  indeed:  the  first  is  that 


'-5 


THE   SONGS   OF   THE   TREES 

rapid-growing  bean-stalk  that  Jack  planted  and  climbed; 
and  the  other  is  the  lovely  rock-a-bye  tree. 

"  Rock-a-bye  baby 
On  the  tree-top, 
When  the  winds  blow 
The  cradle  will  rock  — 
When  the  bough  bends 
The  cradle  will  fall  — 
Down  tumbles  baby,  cradle,  and  all." 


"  Winter  is  Summer's  heir 


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